


Advent

by sportivetricks (tamlane)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Christmas, F/M, Flirting, Lily is 17, Older Man/Younger Woman, Shorts, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/pseuds/sportivetricks
Summary: Professor Longbottom was such a dork.  Lily was going to die if she didn't have him.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Lily Luna Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	1. Missing Something

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a series of short fics for [adventdrabbles](https://adventdrabbles.dreamwidth.org/).
> 
> Take that UST tag seriously. :)

He was wearing the cardigan again. The one with felted elbow patches and unfortunate stripes. The one that showed his slight paunch from certain angles. He flicked his wand, absent-mindedly biting his lip as he worked.

Professor Longbottom was such a dork.

Before long, the Christmas tree was hung with bulging, glinting balls of red and gold. Garlands of gold beads lounged on every limb, dripping oak leaves and crystals. Gold dust sparkled on the tip of every pine needle.

Lily was going to die if she didn't have him.

She slid through the cracked door and was nearly at his side before he noticed.

"Lily!" he said, glancing up momentarily. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Free period."

"Ah." He added a few golden snowflakes even as hot color rose in his neck. "Well, the Great Hall's closed to students for the next hour." He looked exactly where she had intended for him to look when she picked out her top. "And you should go put your robes on before dinner."

"It's missing something, don't you think?" Lily asked. After an appropriately inappropriate pause, she nodded to the tree and added, " _Professor_."

"What's it missing?" he asked, a little defensively. 

With a flick of her wand, Lily crowned the tree with a fresh sprig of mistletoe.

"Lily," Professor Longbottom said with a nervous chuckle. "This is a school."

"No matter," she replied, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "It's not as nice as yours, anyway."

Neville — _Professor Longbottom_ — detached the mistletoe from the tree. It hovered in midair for a moment, in which Lily was sure he would vanish it. Then, with a little slouch, he buried it in the branches behind a snowflake.

When it was positioned to his liking, he flicked his wand again. It shone Gryffindor gold.

He glanced back at her. "I've had a few years of practice," he said softly. "Off you go."


	2. Safety First

By the time she made it to the greenhouses, Lily was windblown, trembling, and thoroughly dusted in snow. 

"Lily!" Neville exclaimed, dropping a shovel of compost. "What on earth are you doing, trudging across the grounds without a coat on?"

Not only was she wearing nothing _over_ her hoodie. She was wearing nothing _under_ it, either. "Just a quick errand, Professor. Anyway, I'm always a little hot in here."

"Yeah, well..." His eyes darted to the contrary evidence poking at the front of her hoodie. "You don't look it." He cleared his throat and turned to collect a dusty robe from a hook by his office. "And you know I don't allow students in my greenhouses without robes on. Safety first. Here."

Neville held the robe up for her, and Lily moved her long, red hair over one shoulder as she slipped into it, making sure the strands brushed his hand.

"What errand, then?" he asked.

"Professor Clearwater said you had some Shrivelfig for her?"

"Ah, right enough," Neville said, rattling open the heavy door to his office. "Stay there. And don't touch _that_ ," he said, pointing to a plant that looked like a cross between a holly and a venus fly trap. Expecting it might be one of his many experiments, Lily took him at his word.

There was barely room for him to move inside his office. Lily heard a high-pitched squeak and a muttered curse as he rummaged around. She moved closer and peeked inside at the mess of foliage, pots, and tools. It covered nearly every surface except a small section of his desk, which was loaded down with dog-eared books and parchments. 

There was a sprig of mistletoe lying on top of them. The one she had conjured for him.

Lily gasped, but Neville was immediately in front of her with the Shrivelfig, frowning slightly. "Lily, I thought I said—"

"Is that mine?" she cut across him, pointing to the mistletoe. 

He pulled the door closed behind him with a sticky thud. Color rose in his cheeks. "I had second thoughts about leaving it in the Great Hall."

Lily didn't step back, so he was forced to scrunch himself a bit awkwardly in the doorframe. 

"It's much safer in your office, no doubt," she said with a smile.

Neville glanced away.

"Unless you're expecting company."

"No time for company," he said, firmly. "Unless they care to do my marking for me. Which I should definitely get started on." He handed her the vividly purple fruit. "And you should..."

"What?"

His eyes dropped again to her front. "Just..." He took her hoodie zipper in his soiled fingers and tugged it tightly up under her chin. "Mind the tentacula on your way out."


	3. Distracted

"Lily!" Neville snapped.

Shite, she'd done it again. She couldn't help zoning out in Herbology, especially when they were just repotting stuff. And especially when she was partnered with Macmillan. Clearly his enthusiasm was meant to rub off on her, but it only gave her mind that much more time to wander.

Neville glanced down at her bag. Horrified, Lily noticed it gaping open to reveal a Patented Daydream Charm box, luridly illustrated with a half-dressed couple getting down and dirty by a fire.

"Professor, I didn't—!"

"See me after class."

Lily sighed and gave her bag a little kick. Those four words never played out in reality the way they did in her fantasies. If he would just get _angry_... but no, he always insisted on looking disappointed in her.

Today was no exception.

"Well?" Neville said, crossing his arms. "Do you want to be a Potion-maker or not?"

Lily wilted. "Yes, sir."

"Then you need an at least an E in Herbology. And it doesn't hurt if you like plants."

"I like plants!" It was true, obliquely. She liked people who _grew_ plants. Well, one person.

"And if you're going for an apprenticeship in an applied field," he added, "then you'd best be ready to do some menial labor."

Lily hung her head, toeing some spilt potting soil into a pile. "I know. It's not like I think I'm too good for that or anything. It's just... I get... distracted."

Neville softened. He slipped his hands into the deep pockets of his work robes. "It's almost break, and... we're all more than ready for it, I know."

Lily glanced up.

"Yes, _all_ of us." Neville gave her a faint flicker of a smile before settling back into his Firm Professor Face. "But I expect your full and undivided attention in my class at all times."

He was quite firm indeed. He might have thought twice about it if he knew what that voice did to her. There was certainly no hiding the heat rising in her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I won't let it happen again."

"Thank you, Lily. You’d best run along."

She turned to leave but paused. She knew she shouldn't push, but... "For what it's worth," she said, looking back at him through a curtain of red hair, "it wasn't a Daydream Charm that had me distracted."


	4. Treat Yourself

Lily wasn't following Neville around Hogsmeade _per se_. They just both ended up in Gladrags.

From the safety of the lingerie section, she watched as he browsed a selection of jumpers. He'd had a haircut and a fresh shave and even appeared to have brushed his old pewter-grey wool overcoat.

He'd had that coat since she was a kid. It had always scratched her face when she hugged him. That had never stopped her.

"Hello, Professor."

"Oh, hi, Lily." His eyes darted to the scarf wound around her neck. "Good to see you dressed appropriately for the weather."

"Barely a sliver of exposed skin," she said with a smile. "Big plans for the holidays, then?"

"Plans?"

"Your hair."

Neville's hand went to the back of his neck. "Oh. No, just staying at Hogwarts. But I thought I might..."

He trailed off, running his hand over the ugliest brown jumper she'd ever seen, covered all over in beige snowflakes. "Not sure what I was thinking, really," he said with a little laugh.

Lily brushed across him and picked up a wine-red jumper with an elaborate, silvery stripe of Fair Isle patterning across the chest and shoulders. "I like this one," she said, holding it up against him.

Neville never wore bold colors. His hazel eyes seemed to glow gold next to the red, and the silver brought out the grey around his hairline. Lily smoothed her hands over the knit... She imagined straddling him, running her hands _under_ it... "I like this one a lot."

Neville glanced at the price tag hanging from the wrist cuff, biting his lip.

"Go on, Professor," Lily whispered. "Treat yourself."

She reached into her shopping bag, past the pair of self-warming socks for her dad, and pulled out the top of a satiny red chemise. "I certainly plan to."


	5. Just a Taste

Neville's face lit up when he opened Lily's gift. "Frostbite Fangs?"

"You always sent them to me when I was a kid. Remember?"

"Yeah," he said, turning over the box. "They were my favorite when I was a kid. Little hard to find nowadays."

"I owl-ordered them."

It was the last Saturday before break, and Lily had managed to catch Neville in his real office. The one in Gryffindor Tower. The one that adjoined his chambers. Outside the window, specks of fallen snow danced this way and that on a giddy wind that couldn't decide which way to blow.

Neville was wearing the new red jumper. She wanted to crawl over his desk and ride him like a runaway hippogriff.

"I'm afraid I can't eat sweets like I used to," he said with a rueful smile. He opened the box. "Why don't you have one?"

A rush of wind rattled the windowpanes.

Lily took one of the long, tapered white fangs from the box and unwrapped it halfway down. "Want to live vicariously, is that it?"

Neville shifted in his seat. "Can you blame me?" he asked, very softly.

"Not at all."

It was more than she could have hoped for. Staring straight into his eyes, she slid her mouth down the fang and slowly pulled back, hollowing her cheeks. White heat stung her tongue, and with an uncontrollable giggle, she blew out a mouthful of frost.

Neville chuckled lightly.

Lily leaned over his desk, over the dirt-stained books with dried leaves sticking out as bookmarks, and offered him the fang. "Sure you don't want a taste?"

"No, I... I really shouldn't."

Lily touched the pointed tip to his bottom lip. "Just one little taste, Professor."

He took just the tip into his mouth, his jaw working as he swirled his tongue around it. He held the hot sugar in his mouth a long moment and then pursed his lips and exhaled. Lily leaned so close that frost dusted her face.

She shivered, imagining that frost on her nipples... on the inside of her knees....

Neville's lips were red and swollen from the charm, as she knew her own were. The fang rested forgotten in her hand as she leaned closer still. He didn't back away. His breath came short, his pupils widening.

"Just a taste," Lily whispered against his lips.

Another gust of wind whirred outside, and Neville scooted his chair back. He let out a long, slow breath. 

"I think that's quite enough sugar for one day," he said, closing the box. "Thank you, Lily."


	6. Blooms Everywhere

On the next-to-last Herbology class before the holiday break, Lily paid most careful attention to her tasks. When she got a _'good job, Lily'_ from Neville, she felt it like a physical caress.

She lingered after class under the pretension of helping him tidy up, still buzzing from his praise. Under her work robes, the whisper of her red chemise worked her nipples into hard peaks.

"It's not that I don't like plants, Professor," she said a little sheepishly, gathering shears in a bucket. "It's just that Potions are... quicker."

Neville swept the class's mess of pruned leaves into a pile with his wand. "I struggled with that," he admitted. "One second of bad timing, and..."

"Catastrophe," Lily finished for him, her eyes gleaming. She liked that rush, that bit of danger.

Neville chuckled. "Exactly." He gathered the leaves into a burlap bag and tied the strings in a knot with a deft swish that made Lily imagine being roped to his bed. Then he paced towards a table near his office, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

Lily followed.

He put the table between them and gave her a long, unreadable look. "I like taking my time with things," he said.

Her heartbeat skyrocketed. Was the double meaning just her imagination?

"This, for example," he said, pointing to a large pot beside a few poinsettias. Another of his experiments, she supposed. The pot contained a single twig, gnarled and grey, and looked quite sad next to the showy red foliage of its neighbors. "It doesn't look like much right now, but the roots fill the whole pot. Wine-red roots."

She wondered if he was wearing the red jumper under his robes.

"There's plenty of time of play around," he went on. "Try a little of this. A little of that. Find out what it needs. What it likes." He ran one finger up the side of the twig, and it shivered slightly.

Lily felt an answering clench between her legs.

"And you keep on, day after day, month after month. And then, out of nowhere, it's putting off shoots." Neville had a faraway gleam in his eyes, though he stared straight into hers. "The shoots start to bud. Wet, sticky little pink buds. Very delicate." 

Lily licked her lips.

"So hard not to touch them," he continued. "But you wait. You've done all you can, and you wait. And then... suddenly... they explode." Neville gave her a heavy-lidded smile, quite unlike any she'd ever seen on his face. "Blooms everywhere."

Her breath came hot and quick, her knickers soaked.

"Instant gratification isn't everything," Neville said. Then, shifting back into Professor-voice and busying himself once again with his tidying, he added, "Not to worry, that won't be on the NEWTs."


	7. In Good Hands

It was so unfair. There had only been one Yule Ball during Lily's seven years at Hogwarts, and she had just missed it. Al had been a fourth year and Jamie a sixth year. Lily was sure at least one of them were the reason the festivity had been discontinued.

Her brothers got everything. And ruined everything. 

But not this. She would never get a chance to see Professor Neville Longbottom sweeping around the Great Hall in elegant dress robes, it was true. But if she had her way, the two of them were going to do a most private and provocative dance this holiday.

Neville was making his way up the long Gryffindor table this morning with a clipboard, marking down the names of students who would be staying at Hogwarts over the break. Lily's knees bounced under the table, her breakfast untouched as she pretended to read from her Transfiguration text.

"Lily?" he asked, barely looking up from his clipboard. "Staying or going?"

"I'm staying, Professor."

That got his attention. Neville visibly swallowed, his quill pausing mid-scribble. "That's a first. You have your parents' permission?" 

"Yes, sir. Everyone's working." She gave him a coy smile. "And they know I'm in good hands here."

Neville narrowed his eyes at her.

"I got to thinking about what you said," Lily continued recklessly. "About taking more time with things. And I decided to start a rather complex potion. With Professor Clearwater's approval, of course."

Neville cocked his head as though he was going to say something, but no words left his parted lips.

"It's a tricky one. Slow to brew and very dangerous if handled... indelicately."

Neville drew in a deep breath and let it out through his nose, his lips a thin line. He almost looked like he wanted to spank her. 

"I'm hoping I can get it _just right_."


	8. One Little Look

A single bright star peeked through the early evening clouds, shining like a beacon over the greenhouses. Snow drifted deep against them, the glass heavy with frost. Inside, Neville was down to a thin white t-shirt and chinos. The shirt clung to him as he heaved huge burlap bags onto rolling carts.

Lily paused in the doorway, transfixed, as Neville pulled up the hem of his t-shirt, wiping sweat from his face. He carried a bit of weight around his middle, but his arms were bloody ripped.

He spotted her and yanked down his t-shirt at once. "Don't you have a potion to be working on?" he asked.

"I came to see if you had any fanged geranium," Lily lied. "Do you need some help?"

Neville grabbed another bag with a grunt. "No."

"Why don't you levitate them?" Lily asked, although she suspected she knew why. He rather looked like he was trying to work off some frustration.

"I don't use magic — _unf_ — around highly combustible organic fertilizers." He stopped and glanced at her, this time using the back of his hand to wipe his brow. "I think I have a few flower heads in my stores. I'll have a look later."

"Are you cross with me?"

"No. I'm busy."

"I'm wearing it," Lily blurted out. Christmas was only two days away. Neville had done a stellar job of avoiding her over the past few. She was running out of time. "Right now. Under my coat."

Neville turned his head, but she clearly heard a whispered _fuck_.

"Do you want to see it?"

"You know, I had an owl from your mum yesterday." Neville pitched his voice comically high, doing a fairly accurate impression. " _'Dear Neville, thank you for looking after Lily over the holidays, she was so insistent about staying at Hogwarts, we hope she won't be too much trouble.'_ " He released a hysterical huff of laughter.

Hearing her mum's words only steeled Lily that much more. "There's no one around," she said softly, unfastening her coat. "Surely one little look won't hurt."

"Lily..."

But Neville looked his fill as she opened her coat and let it fall into the crook of her elbows, exposing the red satin chemise. His jaw tightened fiercely, his nostrils flaring.

"I don't see anything wrong with a little holiday fun," Lily said. "That's what the holidays are for, right? We feast. Indulge." She slid the hem up to give him just a peek of the red hair between her legs. "Give each other gifts." She dropped it just as quickly. "Then we ring in a new year and start fresh."

Neville made no move to hide the sizeable erection tenting his trousers. Under his damp t-shirt, his nipples stood out in dusky relief, as hard as hers.

Lily refastened her coat. "So you'll let me know if you find the fanged geranium?"

"Yep." He turned and heaved another bag.


	9. White Heat

"Can you keep a secret?" Neville asked.

"Of course," Lily replied.

At breakfast, he'd told her to stop by the greenhouse for the fanged geranium she didn't need. Now he lifted the wards on the storeroom by his small greenhouse office. It was as messy as the adjoining office, but on a work table, carefully isolated from the mess, stood a plant with silvery-white, fern-like foliage.

Lily stepped forward with a gasp. "White Heat." She had only ever seen illustrations of it in restricted potions books. She held out her hand, feeling the warmth that radiated from it like fire.

"Careful."

Lily turned and gave Neville a curious grin. "I didn't know we grew these at Hogwarts."

He raised one eyebrow. "We don't."

The air around the plant seemed to blur like the aura around a flame, luring her closer. "Isn't it... an aphrodisiac?"

"The seeds are, yes." Neville slipped in behind her and rounded the table. "But the fruit is rare and dangerous to harvest. The foliage can burn right through dragonhide."

"Have you ever been burned?"

He lifted one sleeve of his work robes, showing her a faint white scar in the shape of those leaves. "I was young and foolish. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, growing it. But I was careless with it, trying to get it to bloom. Impatient. Even a little cocky. It had a few surprises for me." He leveled her with a meaningful look. "My attempt to harvest it turned out to be... quite rough."

Lily caught the warning well enough. She felt it from her head to her toes. "I've been burned by potions," she said breathlessly. "I like a little danger."

Neville's jaw worked silently.

"Well?" she prompted him at last.

"Well what?"

"Did you get the fruit?"

His lips curved into a slow smile. "Yeah. I got it."

"And did you use the seeds?"

Neville chuckled. "Did I mention I was young and foolish?"

It was hard to imagine him ever being either. But the thought of Neville Longbottom under a potent aphrodisiac made her squeeze her legs together. Sweat beaded above her lip from the heat of the plant.

He opened the compartment of a small chest of drawers and took out a jar containing several flower heads of fanged geranium. "Use what you need," he said.

Lily took the jar from him, their fingers brushing momentarily. "Nothing would have stopped you getting the fruit, would it?" she asked quietly.

Neville shook his head. "Nothing."


	10. The Gift

Lily awoke to the usual pile of presents on Christmas morning. It felt odd, getting them at Hogwarts, alone in her dorm. There was the usual jumper from Grandma and various sweets and doodads from cousins and friends. Al sent her a set of glass vials, and Jamie sent her a gigantic Wasps jersey. She gasped aloud at the gift from her mum and dad: a gold charm bracelet dangling with tiny potions paraphernalia and letters spelling out her name.

One gift did not have a tag. It was a plain white box, held closed by a thick red velvet ribbon. Inside was an unmarked vial of greenish liquid and a folded square of parchment.

_Midnight, my office.  
Take the potion before you come.  
Don't get caught._

She had barely read it when it disintegrated into ash. With shaking fingers, Lily opened the vial and sniffed. The heady, familiar odor left no doubt as to the sender's intentions.

The Christmas feast was spectacular, but Lily had never been less interested in food. Her stomach fluttered with anticipation as she picked over some roast potatoes. She noticed that Neville wasn't eating much, either. When the table produced every pudding known to wizardkind and then some, he gave her a long look over his goblet, half defeat and half dare.

Many hours later, when he answered his office door, he was wearing the red jumper and charcoal-grey corduroy trousers. He was barefoot. A fire roared inside. Lily could feel its warmth from the corridor.

"Come in."

He shut the door behind her. Lily had never been in his office with the door closed. Another door to his chambers stood open inside, a tall four-poster bed just visible within, covered in shiny red bedclothes. The smell of cinnamon wafted from that direction.

"Did anyone see you?" he asked.

"No."

"Did you take the potion?"

"Yes."

Neville stood motionless for a moment and then turned and warded his office door with a dizzying number of spells. He pocketed his wand and leaned against the doorframe with his back to her. The jumper stretched tautly over his wide shoulders.

Finally, he turned around to face her. Lily sucked in a sharp breath. She had never fully appreciated what a _man_ Neville was. It wasn't just his stature or the grey hair at his temples or the hint of wrinkles around his eyes. It was the way he was looking at her.

He seemed perfectly calm, relaxed, controlled. He even wore a faint smile. But his eyes twinkled with a predatory gleam.

"Lily," he said, unbuckling his belt, "you have been a very bad girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are lovely to receive. :)
> 
> You can connect with me @sportivetricks on [tumblr](https://sportivetricks.tumblr.com) and [dreamwidth](https://sportivetricks.dreamwidth.org).


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